


Nirvana

by Blackarrow_bagels1



Category: Batman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, TimKon - Fandom
Genre: I'm indecisive, M/M, Nirvana by Sam Smith, One Night Stand?, Smut, Y'all please be nice this is my first fic that I'm showing to other people, implied past timkon, listen to it!!!!, maybe? - Freeform, this is based on one of my favorite songs, un beta read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 06:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15790977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackarrow_bagels1/pseuds/Blackarrow_bagels1
Summary: Tim was on a mission going after a corrupt official. He'd been on so many that the name and history stopped mattering. It was usually the same. This time, however, something stands out to him- a particular past boyfriend who is following the same corrupt man.





	Nirvana

_Oh, baby, oh, baby_

_Oh, we both know the truth_

Tim hadn't expected much. His ribs were still healing from a scuffle with the League of Shadows, so he was taking it easy. Yeah, right. "Taking it easy." He was posing as a reporter to uncover New York's newest corrupt government official. He was trying to avoid Gotham, since Bruce asked to be alone after his wedding (or lack thereof). He was avoiding Central City for fear of running into Bart (pun intended). He was avoiding Metropolis for reasons he didn't want to get into. When he told all of this to Dick, he was skeptical. Tim was lying through his teeth, and both boys knew it, but neither would press it.

Getting into the hotel had been a minor disaster. Corruption paid for extra security, and no amount of training from Batman could mask Tim's wince when hired muscle pushed him away, fingers digging into his ribs. His wounded ribs, to be exact. Most "New York Times Political Science Journalists" (a cover that had served him well before) didn't have severely broken ribs. It was suspicious, to say the least. Unable to fight back, he walked away from the front desk. There was always a backdoor he could find.

His chest hurt with every ragged breath. Heaving himself over the fence took more effort than usual. At least the fence separating the front and back of of the hotel wasn't guarded. Wearily, Tim paused to catch his breath and survey the area. A single back door sat crookedly at the base of the hotel. The paint was chipping off, wooden brown splotches breaking through the white paint like teenage acne. The wall that surrounded it was solid, unbroken by windows or fire safety regulations. It was a salmon-pink hue, faded by the sun's direct rays and general neglect. Weeds threatened to consume the bottom foot of the wall. The fence was posted in a small circle around the backdoor, containing said weeds. Tim made for the backdoor, noting the lack of exits that could become useful. Left hand clutching his throbbing midsection, his right hand made for the door handle. It opened by itself, swinging open and revealing-

_If it were the real me and you_

_This wouldn't be the right thing to do_

Connor. Kon-El. Superboy. He hesitated on the other side of the doorway. His blue eyes pierced into Tim's, questions running through his mind. Breathing in and out, unsure of what to do, he opened his mouth. He closed it just as abruptly. Tim looked equally surprised, huddled near the doorway. His hand was clutching his side, and Connor could hear the breath rattling around a busted ribcage.

_Now the room is all hazy_   
_We're too lost in the fumes_   
_I feel like it's just me and you_   
_Yeah, we got nothing to lose_

 

Half a day later and they're sitting in the same room. It's modest, a bedroom with a bathroom branching out and a few arm chairs hastily set up in the corner. A small coffee table rested on its side near them, tipped over to save space. Kon lies on the bed while Tim lounges in a chair. They've been talking for a few hours now. Idle gossip, superhero news, villain intel, and other small talk topics. There's an elephant in the room neither of them will bring up. They haven't seen each other for a year.

 

They haven't seen each other since they broke up. And now they're sitting casually, talking as if nothing had ever gone wrong. Connor wondered how Tim looked so calm. While not being outwardly emotional, Connor was willing to bet only Batman didn't have feelings. Tim did.

 

_It's too late to run away from it all_   
_It's too late to get away from it all_   
_I'm done with running so I give it to you_

 

Tim tries to get up from the lounge chair, excusing himself hastily, but the effort was more than his nerves could handle. Instantly, Kon leaps to offer help, catching Tim's thin frame as he stumbles. Eyes squeezed shut in agony, Tim doesn't look up for a while. But he doesn't move either. Secretly, he enjoys the comfort. It's not a hug, but Kon's arms are wrapped around him protectively.

 

_This moment has caused a reaction_   
_Resulting in a reattachment_

 

They spend the night together in Kon's room. He can't, in good conscience, allow Tim out of his sight while this injured. Tim puts up a weak fight, agreeing to stay after a few more pained steps towards the door. Kon's arms are still holding him. They're still protecting him. Conner ushers him to the bed, a comfy support with soft padding, and Tim suppresses a blush. He can't surpress his heart rate, which has skyrocketed since being wrapped in his ex's arms. It's late at night, and neither man is going anywhere.

 

_Girl, you take me to Nirvana_

 

Tim's hands grip the sheets. He's on his back, Kon's hands gently rubbing over the gauze around his ribs. The rest of his body is thrusting, hips rolling as his cock pushes deeper and deeper. It's sensual, the breath warm against Tim's ear as he whispers sweet nothings into his ear. Tim's breath is steady, inhaling with each thrust. His eyes gaze to the ceiling, unfocused. His hands scrunch up the sheets as he releases, sharply inhaling just before his orgasm.

 

_I don't think this will last_   
_'Cause you're here in my arms_

 

Tim's fast asleep on his side. The sheets aren't covering him as much as Conner is, large arm holding the two together. He's the big spoon, his own body warming Tim's back. Tim's breathing is level and even, hypnotic almost. Despite everything, Connor can't sleep. He's thinking about what happened. He's rehooked up with his ex. A bad idea, to say the least, but he couldn't deny how satisfied he felt. He sighed contentedly, remembering the fights that eventually became too much. He's remembering the constant arguing, the emotional guardedness, the sheer problems of dating a mini Batman that had lead to their breakup. He could lie to himself, promise it'll work this time. He could try harder to be there, to keep himself together. He could try to make amends. But he wouldn't. He wasn't naive. This could never work long-term.

 

But damn, did it felt good in the moment.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The lyrics that are italisized are from Sam Smith's "Nirvana." It's a very good song, please give it a listen!
> 
> I'm a big doofus; thanks for reading. This is my first fic that anyone other than my sister is reading (if you've made it this far). What'd you think?


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